|: 001. Video/Spam : Feels Just Like I Don't Try :|

[kissthatgoodbye]

    [ Public ]

    [It's not unusual for transmissions to start en route to whatever they'll eventually show; this one follows the floor for a moment, spins its focus past a wall, shows a glimpse of common room.

     Shows a partial view of a possibly familiar face, frowning in concentration, muttering more or less to himself.]

     Number of things nowhere near as simple as they should be: two so far.  Well done, Admiral.  Catch up to the twenty-first century, huh?

     [A few more small adjustments, and Alec is fully on screen, standing mid-corridor on one of the hallways. He beams, pleased with himself.]

     There.  Now.  Floor numbers go up or down?  Is this thing actually on?  Hello?


     [ Spam : Open ]

     [Once his presence is successfully announced, it frees Alec up to investigate his new environment more thoroughly - and explore it he does, once he confirms what his research alone in his cabin has already told him: this place is nothing like Manticore.  They seem to pride themselves on it, even.  Additionally they're recovering from some kind of unusual crisis, and that leaves him a unique opportunity he doesn't intend to waste, especially not with what else his reading of the network has shown him.

     He covers his barcode with the collar of his jacket, and separates the Barge as he understands it into a grid, sets out to fill in the blank spots.  He can be found poking around in the dining hall, the infirmary, the gym, the greenhouse, the art room, and lingering outside the pub, the maintenance office, the engine room.  He even wanders down near Zero just to make sure he's left no corner uninvestigated. 

    It's simple: act like he belongs here, see who takes the bait; he's friendly to everyone he sees, smiling easily, often waving in greeting if anyone looks at him.  Evaluate, adjust, advance.  As long as he has new surroundings to investigate, as long as he has new rules and social angles to learn, he doesn't have to think about why he's here, what it means, or what he means to do once he's sure of himself.]

     [ Private : Dillon Cole : A few days later, after this ]

    [No fumbling this time.  He wants to be taken seriously and he expects this Dillon person is already familiar with X5s, too - enough to know that a few days is more than enough time for him to become competent with the communicator anyway, if nothing else.

     His speech is a little more formal, too, although he doesn't bother with being as starched and rigid as he's seen his clone on the network; he can, but he only needs the vague connection in this case.]

     Good afternoon, sir.  I was told to contact with you a possible employment inquiry.

Comments

[gulosity]

[A breath escapes her, a soft hiss of air between her teeth. There, that was what she wanted; the key has turned, the lock has clicked. Her hand flutters up to rest on the back of his neck possessively as she leans into his touch, arches her neck towards the too-softness of his lips.]

You're going to have to remind me what you want, then. I think I've forgotten.

CW from here on out: looks like we're going the NSFW route

[kissthatgoodbye]

[The hiss, the movement of her hand is just enough warning; he's just slow enough pulling his head back that she'll feel the curve of his lips against her throat, and then his breath is hot on the underside of her jaw.]

Not sure I told you.

[Low, not a secret but not for just anyone either. His hand at the front of her shoulder, thumb still brushing her skin beside the neckline of her top, not hesitant but not in any hurry either. She's an easy starter; he likes control. This is how he combats that hold on his neck, breathing out nearly pointblank against her, teasing with the barest brush of his tongue right along the tendon connecting shoulder to jaw.]

But I'm willing to explain.

smh at these two tbh

[gulosity]

[They're in public. A few years ago, that would have bothered her. But a few years ago, she was an entirely different person, someone Alec would have looked through rather than at. She isn't that person anymore. She is a goddess now, fiery-eyed and bitter-tongued, and she deserves this. She deserves this.]

Please, [she says, throaty and low, not begging for anything from anyone but curling her voice around him like a siren.] Explain. I'm not going anywhere.

[Obvious from the way she presses against him. There's nowhere else she'd rather be. His fingers on her skin make her shiver, but she's not in any hurry, either.]

[kissthatgoodbye]

[Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn't have; a few years ago he certainly wouldn't have unless he had orders to engage with her. Every brush of his fingers over her skin is in defiance of that, even though no one around him would understand that, no one but him. It's okay. He's the only one he's ever needed, for most things.

Not for this, of course. He needs at least one other person for this, and she's very obviously willing. They're in public and that doesn't bother him on a personal level - whatever that is - but there's a line of logic running through the back of his mind that never quite shuts off, whether or not he chooses to listen to it. It'll be a disturbance. It's his first day. He does not want to be a disturbance right now.]

Are you sure? [Alec smiles, making it coy, letting her draw him in; it's easy. She's good at it. He is too. It's barely a motion at all to touch his lips to her skin, to alternately nibble and suckle gently, teasingly, right where he is while his hand slides further down, cups firmly right over her chest, leaving no doubt that he's in this too.] We could go a little further down the hall...

[There's an empty room. It's good enough for him.]

[gulosity]

[Lourdes doesn't care about being a disturbance. She doesn't care about drawing attention. There are only a few very specific things she cares about right now, and most of them are Alec, his voice against her skin, the warm wetness of his mouth. He cups her and she arches into him, a hiss escaping through her teeth, her head tipping sideways to give him easier access.]

I don't care. You pick. But hurry up.

[Not that she's actually really in any hurry. She just likes to push.]

[kissthatgoodbye]

[If he didn't feel like he was about to fall over - his strength, he'll realize as time drags on and he still feels like this; if he had his strength - it would be easy for him to just scoop her up and move them himself. He probably still could, if he compensated for the weakness going in, but he doesn't feel like it.

She has perfectly functional - and perfectly perfect - legs. She can walk. He doesn't let her push him much but he does chuckle where his mouth is, move up for one more quick but dirty kiss, tongue and lips and the barest touch of teeth before he's pushing up off the couch, one arm sliding around her to pull her up with him, right up against him where he can continue the kiss now vertical, keep it as a constant source of contact for them.]

Nothing worth doing is worth rushing. [This is patently untrue but it's the sort of shit people he's got his hands down the pants of like to hear, and he does: there is just enough space between them for him to answer, briefly, teasingly, to the demand in her voice while walking her backwards, pulling his hand back out to make her wait at least long enough to reach the first empty door, to press her back against it for a moment before he tries to open it, to smile against her eagerness.]

[gulosity]

[Maybe nothing worth doing is worth rushing, but there's something appealing, magnetic about a little rush, about wanting something so badly you want to push through the present into the future to get it, to bend time to your will so you can kiss and touch and taste and smell exactly as you want to. So she snorts into his mouth when he says it, sliding her hand up his neck to catch in his hair. She lets him push her until they get to the door, and then, once he pushes it open, presses her hands to his chest and shoves him against the wall as the door slams shut.]